


Everything I Never Liked About You

by bactaqueen



Series: Sweetest Friend [3]
Category: AFI, NIN - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:53:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2292539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bactaqueen/pseuds/bactaqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Isn’t it funny how everything works out?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything I Never Liked About You

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people or events is entirely coincidental.
> 
> Author’s Note: Originally posted June 2005.

The smell of sex filled the warm air and made the darkness oppressively sweet. Trent waited until Davey had slipped around the corner, disappearing in the direction of the bedroom, before he turned back to face the impassive structure of the front door. He zipped and buttoned his pants, but he left the belt to dangle; he could hope his guest was perceptive. Trent ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to untangle and tame the locks. He rubbed at the thick stickiness of the lipstick Davey had painted his face with, but gave up quickly. He didn’t need to be presentable to turn away whoever it was standing on the other side of the door.

Trent sighed and leaned forward, bracing himself against the door as he peered curiously through the peephole. What he saw made him frown.

After moving away from the door to disarm the security system, Trent returned and threw the locks before twisting the knob and pulling the door open. The night beyond was cool and fresh. Trent regarded the slender figure illuminated by the yellow porch light for a silent moment before he said, "Can I help you?"

Warm, sad brown eyes set into an oddly attractive face swept up, torn from their contemplation of the toes of his shoes. The beautiful boy hesitated only a moment before beginning, "I’m Jade. I wanted..." He trailed off, and defeat seemed to fill his eyes, briefly, before being replaced with sadness. "Is Davey here?"

Trent frowned, puzzled. "Yes..."

"Jade!"

Davey’s surprised and angry cry drew the attentions of both men back into the house. Trent turned to watch Davey scramble into the hall, yanking the black pants up his legs as he moved. His eyes were focused on Jade.

He halted halfway between the corner and the door and stood trembling, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His eyes blazed. "Go home, Jade. This is none of your business."

Trent looked back at Jade.

Jade had leaned around to look at Davey, but was now ignoring his friend. He straightened and met Trent’s eyes squarely. "Can I talk to you?"

This time, Trent allowed his mystification to manifest in his eyes and on his face. He frowned deeply and questioned, "What about?"

Vaguely, Jade gestured in the direction of Davey. The rings on his fingers caught and reflected the light. "Him," Jade said, and added, "Privately, if you don’t mind."

Trent’s eyes found Davey once again. The younger man was shaking now, so tense his muscles could no longer hold in the energy his emotions had created. Davey’s lips were pressed tightly together. He was glaring at Jade, his eyes so hot that Trent was certain Jade was made of something stronger than steel.

When Davey spoke, he did so with such bitterness that even Trent felt a piece of himself breaking.   
"I trusted you."

To match the bitterness, Jade’s voice held all the warmth of an Antarctic winter. "And you see where that got you." He directed his next address--toneless and matter-of-fact--at Trent. "It won’t take long."

Trent looked between Davey and Jade, hesitating. Something was going on between these two. Trent wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew it wasn’t good. He weighed his options and decided that he was neutral enough to step in.

Slowly, he locked eyes with Davey. In a voice that left no room for argument, he said, "Wait for me in the bedroom. I’ll be right there."

It was a long time before Davey moved. He simply stood there staring at Trent with eyes that were hurt and betrayed. This is it. Trent felt his heart sinking into his stomach. He’s going to grab the rest of his clothes, walk right out this door, and never, ever speak to me again.

Relief filled him and threatened to spill out in a smile when Davey shifted and turned. Trent watched him go. When Davey disappeared around the corner for the second time, Trent returned his attention to the guitarist on his porch.

Jade’s iciness evaporated with Davey’s exit, and he slumped, suddenly looking like a sad and resigned boy. His eyes fell; he stared at the tile of the floor in the hall. He said quietly, "Could you come out here?"

Trent stepped into the night and pulled the door closed behind him. He slipped his hands into his pockets and waited. After a long silence the younger man didn’t break, Trent ventured, "What was it you needed to tell me?"

Jade shoved his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket and huddled in on himself. His sad eyes were anywhere but on Trent. It was long moments before he spoke. "Davey’s addicted to pain."

Trent blinked. "What?"

Jade’s eyes closed as he sighed softly. "Pain. He needs it."

It flashed through Trent’s mind: Davey’s pleas, his insistence on the raw sex Trent knew had to hurt; the whispered confession just before sleep after the first time. Trent winced. "He’s using me."

Slim shoulders lifted in a discontented shrug. "He used me for well over a year before I figured out I was just a fix." There was bitterness in Jade’s voice to match the bitterness that had cut him so deeply. "I should have known sooner--he hated lube, always did." Then Jade was shaking his head, and his hands were out of his pockets, his fingers moving through his two-tone modified Mohawk. Everything about his body was restless, and his eyes met Trent’s for the first time to implore.

"Look, I thought if I told you, maybe you could do something about him. At least make him use lube."

Trent stared at the young man standing before him, looking so lost, so frustrated, and so helpless. "You didn’t come here to stop us," he said.

"Davey’s going to do whatever he wants," Jade replied sharply. "He wants pain. He’ll take the sex, but that’s not what matters. If he’s not here, he’d find someone else, or cut himself, or get another tattoo. That’s the truth behind them all, you know. Hours and hours of pain and blood, and no one knows Davey Havok’s dirty little secret." Then Jade was laughing, and it was a caustic sound. "No, he’s going to do whatever the fuck he pleases, and fuck the fact that there are people who care that he’s going to get himself killed. I tried to help, he didn’t want it. He stopped listening to me a long time ago."

"What makes you think he’ll listen to me?"

Jade narrowed suddenly shrewd eyes. "He doesn’t have to listen to you. You outweigh him by at least twenty pounds, and he’s never been much of a fighter. Tell him you want to use lube, hold him down, and use it."

Trent raised an eyebrow at the violence implicit in that suggestion. "Won’t that hurt more than it helps?"

The broken boy was back, slumped and huddled. "I don’t know." Sad brown eyes begged Trent for something he wasn’t sure he could give. "I just want him to stop hurting himself. If he could just get to the point where he wanted a little bit of pain to spice things up and not because he needed it, I’d be happy." He shook his head and started to turn away. "I’m sorry if this wasn’t something you wanted to hear, but I had to tell you."

Trent waited until Jade made it to the stone pathway that led to the driveway before he spoke up. "Thanks," he said quietly.

Jade stopped and looked back at him.

Trent said, "I hate being used. I especially hate being used to get a fix. Thanks for telling me."

Worry passed briefly through Jade’s eyes. "You’re not mad at him, are you?"

"Are you?"

Jade expelled a frustrated sigh. "Sometimes I hate him so badly..."

Trent shrugged. "Love and hate are essentially the same."

Jade looked away. "They hurt about the same."

Memories surged within Trent, of the time just before Chris left: when things were at their worst and he’d never known; of those months when Marilyn was drawing away; when Chris finally told him that he was leaving; when the truth about the women came out. Trent knew exactly how the guitarist felt. "Hey."   
Jade looked back one final time.

"You ever want someone to... you know. Call me," Trent offered. "There’s a world of solace in the bottom of a bottle."

The smile that graced Jade’s lips was sad. The younger man shook his head. "Tempting, and I wish it wasn’t. Thank you."

* * *

  
Sprawled in the center of the large and unmade bed, Davey was waiting when Trent entered the room. The lovely, serene picture the lissome singer presented belied the heat and anger in his dark eyes. Absently, Davey’s fingers stroked over his own stomach and chest, and he watched Trent move into the room and leave the door slightly ajar.

Trent took the time to enjoy the sight of that beautiful, naked boy framed by his black sheets. After a sufficient silence had passed, Trent stepped forward, closer to the bed.

Davey’s curiosity and impatience finally overtook him and ruined his demeanor of attempted seduction. "Well?" he demanded. "What did he want?"

Trent opened his pants and let them fall. He kicked them to the side before making his way across the room to the bureau that dominated the wall opposite the bed. He ignored the invitation of the mirror and kept his head down. With his back to Davey, he said quietly and firmly, "I don’t like being used."

"Is that what he told you?" Davey sighed. But he didn’t deny it.

The bureau’s top drawer didn’t have the item Trent sought. He closed it and let his hands drop to the bronze handles of the second drawer. "He told me what you do and what you’re doing." Trent finally looked up and met Davey’s eyes in the mirror. The dim light seemed to make his skin glow. "You’re lucky to have a friend who cares like that, you know."

Dismissive, Davey waved a hand. "Jade has his own demons, and I’m one of them. He needs to know that I need this. He likes that we’re both so broken--he thinks it’s romantic."

Trent lowered his head and shook it slowly. The second drawer, once open, revealed what he wanted. Trent stared down at it for a measure of silence, and could feel parts of himself breaking all over again. It was the least he could do, he decided, for one more beautiful boy in pain. He reached in and withdrew the item, then closed the bureau drawer and turned to make his way back to the bed.

Hot, dark eyes followed Trent’s progress. Davey skittered fingers over his skin, low on his belly. "Fuck Jade," he said decisively, and his eyes darkened further. "You don’t still want that nap, do you?"

Trent laughed and climbed up on the bed. He crawled slowly toward Davey, reveling in the way the younger man’s eyes seemed to devour and worship him. "Not anymore."

All too willing, Davey slipped beneath him and locked arms and legs around him. That firm, tight ass was rocked suggestively against Trent’s hardening cock. Davey bit his lip. "So, what is it you do want?"

The smile that tugged at Trent’s lips refused to be killed, so he dropped his head and claimed Davey’s mouth in a soft, tender kiss. He stroked gentle fingers down Davey’s side, over the dagger inked into his skin.

"Let’s take it easy this time, hmm?" Trent suggested breathily when he’d broken the kiss.

Davey’s sigh was full of frustration. He released his hold on Trent and turned his head away. "That’s what he told you."

Trent forced another kiss on Davey, wrenching lips apart with his tongue, taking the soft muscle inside Davey’s mouth and sucking hard on it. The fingers that had been gently stroking Davey’s side moved up to the younger man’s dark hair. Trent twisted his fingers just enough to make Davey feel those first stings of pain as he pulled his head up and drew him deeper into the violent kiss.

"Don’t question me." Trent’s voice was firm, and he bit none too lightly on Davey’s bottom lip. "If I want it easy, I want it easy." He tightened his grip in Davey’s hair until he heard the tell-tale whimper. "Do we understand each other?"

Fear joined the lust in Davey’s eyes. It was a tiny spark, buried as fast as it surfaced, but it was there. "Yes, Trent," Davey whispered.

"Good." Trent eased up, running his fingers through Davey’s soft hair, shifting his body. He brushed light kisses to Davey’s jaw and to the soft skin just under his jaw, high on his neck. Trent’s eyes drifted closed. "You taste so fucking good..." he mumbled.

Davey looped arms around him. Long, fine fingers stroked up and down his bare back, bringing neglected nerve endings to life. Davey turned his face and murmured nothings--sweet, meaningless, musical nothings. Trent found himself sighing softly as a thousand tender memories flooded his mind. It took an effort to drag himself out of nostalgia and back into the present, to focus on the warm body below his.

The sigh that passed Davey’s lips reached Trent’s ears, and with its escape, Davey seemed to melt a little into the sheets. Encouraged, Trent continued his downward journey. He reveled in the jump of Davey’s pulse beneath his lips, in the sweet taste of the sweat that had gathered in the hollow of his throat, in the tightening of his nipples and the way he cried out when Trent bit into them. Davey sucked in a long, deep breath and held it for what seemed an eternity; for the duration, Trent spent his time tasting and teasing the thin skin of his concave stomach, of the soft place just below the breastbone. He bit hard enough to leave a bruise and the tender imprint of his teeth to the left of the dip of the navel. He licked his way down from there, over Davey’s sharp hip, to the base of his cock.

Davey’s moan was music when Trent took the half-hard member into his mouth and ran his tongue along the underside, down to the base, back up to the tip. He was hard faster than Trent expected, and those hips were working, thrusting the velvet length of his cock deep into Trent’s mouth. Davey tangled his fingers in Trent’s hair and held the older man’s head down.

"Don’t--oh--" Davey moaned.

Reluctantly, Trent pulled his mouth from Davey. He licked his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to Davey’s hip. "I don’t want you finished yet."

Davey sighed. His body relaxed, and his fingers went to stroking through Trent’s hair. "Tease," he murmured.

Trent smiled. "I’ll show you tease."

He slipped down until he was lying on his side between Davey’s spread legs. He held the object he’d searched the drawers for and was twisting the cap off and tossing it away. As he squeezed a generous amount of the cool, clear lubricant onto the tip of his finger, he glanced up the length of Davey’s body. Davey was staring down at him.

"You did listen to him." His voice was dead, passionless.

Trent shook his head. "You’ll like it."

"I don’t." Davey’s eyes flashed, and his voice gained emotion. "I don’t like it. I hate it."

Trent leveled his eyes with Davey’s and braced a forearm across Davey’s narrow hips. He lowered his hand and rubbed the tip of his finger around the puckered pink hole of Davey’s ass. "It feels so good," he said, voice low, seductive.

Davey screwed his eyes shut and sucked in a sharp breath. "That’s fucking cold," he hissed.

Ducking his head, Trent breathed hotly over his finger and Davey’s gradually responding skin. "Now?"

Davey merely whimpered.

Gentle and insistent, Trent teased him, rubbing soothingly, easing just the tip of his finger inside the younger man before pulling his hand back and applying more lube. He worked slowly, loosening Davey, coating him, working only two fingers in as far as he could and stroking the sensitive insides.

Body trembling, head shaking, Davey was fisting his hands in the sheets. His body wanted it, loved it--but his mind was fighting. He was fighting the painless pleasure. "Trent... Trent..." And then his words caused Trent to stop everything. In a boy’s voice, Davey begged, "Please, Steve, don’t..."

Trent pushed himself up and hovered over Davey. He found himself staring down at the closed eyelids of a regressing Davey Havok. He stroked dry fingers softly down Davey’s damp face. "Davey."

"I don’t like it. I told you." Bitter. Hurt. Angry.

"Tell me why," Trent urged.

Nothing. Davey’s body remained absolutely still, his lips pressed tightly together.

Carefully, Trent let himself down. He wrapped Davey in his arms and started to rock him gently. "He used something."

Davey said nothing.

Trent sighed. "I won’t. Jade won’t. No one else will, not now, not ever, and you know that." Trent’s mouth found Davey’s. "I’ll make it feel so fucking good," he whispered roughly, the feel of Davey’s body finally getting the best of him. "Let me. Let me make it feel so God-damned good."

Seemingly stirred out of his stupor, Davey arched his back. His fingers ran through Trent’s hair, down his back, straying to his ass. "Come on. Fuck me."

Trent kissed Davey hard, pressing him down into the mattress, biting and sucking viciously at the soft mouth. He nudged his painfully hard cock against Davey’s slick ass and let the younger man tear his mouth away to moan beautifully. Sharp-nailed fingers scratched down Trent’s back, and Trent groaned. Davey’s fingers were then digging into his ass, urging his cock closer and closer, lifting his hips to open himself up for penetration.

"Wait, damn it, Davey, wait." Desperation overtook Trent, and he pulled away from Davey to search for the tube he’d dropped. He found it, but his fingers were clumsy. Want made him lightheaded, made his breathing come harsh, and made his vision blurry. He couldn’t get a grip on the tube, couldn’t figure out how to coat himself.

Then Davey was sitting up, and his fingers were stealing the lube, squeezing copious amounts of the gel onto Trent’s cock. Davey looked up as he tossed the empty container to the floor and didn’t look away as his fingers worked the wetness over Trent’s dick.

Davey laid back, rocked his hips, and bit his lip. Heavy-lidded eyes begged.

Trent was down on that body instantly, ravaging that mouth, thrusting into the tight heat. The tip of his cock found the spot that made Davey tear his mouth away and cry out. Trent focused on hitting it with each stroke. And as the rhythm built, as their bodies moved together with frightening and increased urgency, Davey’s cries grew in volume, and Trent heard his name spilling from that exquisite mouth over and over again.

Davey’s cock was trapped between them, quivering, neglected. Trent raised himself up on his arms and looked down, enthralled by the way it jumped and pulsed with each of Davey’s desperate movements. When Davey opened his eyes and found Trent staring at his dick, he reached down and wrapped his fingers around the hot, hard shaft and began to pull himself off in time with Trent’s vicious thrusts.

Trent looked up.

Davey’s eyes were closed, his teeth gnawing at his lips. The hand around his cock picked up speed; his free hand moved to pinch at his own nipples, to rub across his chest. His breathing was fast, harsh, and ragged.

Warmth spread over Trent’s stomach as Davey came, crying out one last time in surprise. Davey’s body convulsed, and his legs tightened more firmly around Trent’s hips, drawing Trent in deeper. Davey wrapped his arms around Trent and pulled the older man down, and Trent went willingly. He found himself kissing the soft, bloody mouth, found his tongue losing the battle for space, and found Davey sucking ravenously on his lips. His thrusts came harder, faster; his own release was imminent.

Davey’s fingers slid up his neck, into his hair, as Davey mumbled low, breathy encouragement. "Come on."

Trent cried out as everything tensed and his vision went black. When he came to, he found his body collapsed against Davey, and Davey holding him. Fingers stroked down his back and up again. Deliberately, Davey shifted beneath him, drawing attention to his cock still buried within him. Trent moaned and shuddered.

With effort, he pushed himself up and pulled out of Davey. He sighed heavily and fell to the bed, on his back, his skin still in contact with Davey’s. Though not enough, it would seem; as soon as he’d settled, Davey was upon him, pressing their bodies together, resting his cheek against Trent’s shoulder, and dropping soft kisses on his skin, lapping at the sweet sex-sweat. Trent slipped an arm around Davey’s shoulders and squeezed lightly.

"I told you," he mumbled sleepily, and gave up the fight to keep his eyes open. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come so hard. "I told you it would feel good."

Sleep took him long before he would have liked. It was the first time in too long that he wanted to linger in the afterglow, to listen to the breathing of his partner as they both came down from an amazing high. He remained conscious only long enough to feel Davey cuddle closer and relax against him before murmuring tiredly against his neck, "Thank you."


End file.
